The Lady of Time And Space
by Adam Fitzpatrick
Summary: While fleeing from the Wild Hunt, Ciri runs into an old friend. A bard named Dandelion. They go on a heist together, but it was a bust and they ended up fleeing from the Temple Guard and Whoreson's men. Then Ciri disappears just before they could kill her and finds herself in Skyrim. She meets the Dragonborn and gains his aid in escaping from the Hunt. Strong language and violence.
1. Chapter 1: Lilac And Gooseberries

**The Lady of Time And Space**

 **Chapter 1: Kaer Morhen**

 _Kaer Morhen, School of The Wolf, about 10+ years before the Wild Hunt first began their pursuit of Ciri._

Geralt of Rivia was relaxing in the bathtub when a crustacean-like creature crawled in and gave him a nip just as he was about to nod off. He woke up, grabbed the creature and threw it down on the floor near his reclining lover; the sorceress Yennefer of Vengerberg. She was half-naked, had a towel wrapped around her head and lying on a comfy couch with her back turned to Geralt while reading a book. The crab disappeared and Geralt said "You know I don't find that amusing"

"It wasn't meant to amuse" Yennefer replied. "It was meant to prompt you to hurry. It's midday, already."

"pfff…" Geralt scoffed. "You promised Ciri you'd train with her" the sorceress reminded him. Go, before Vesemir bores her to death with those etchings"

Geralt sighs and begrudgingly climbs out of the tub, then starts getting dressed. "So…later, then?"

"Mhm. See you later"

He then walks over to the door, takes the key lying near it, unlocks the door and heads downstairs to find Vesemir sitting on a chair sleeping with some open books lying on the floor in front of him. "Old witcher's fast asleep" Geralt muttered to himself. He walks over to the balcony and sees Ciri training on the castle wall, all by herself with no one watching her.

"Guessing she prefers practice to theory" Geralt commented. Vesemir heard him say that and began to stir. "Hm? What?" the old witcher said to no one in particular. "Time to wake up, master. These lessons so boring, they put you to sleep, too?"

"Dammit…had her taking notes on 'Ghouls and Alghouls.' Wanted to rest my eyes for a bit"

"Huh. Making her slog through that brick? No wonder she took off"

"John of Brugge lacks flair, true, but he's reliable. Not like the hogwash they print nowadays" Vesemir countered. "She's tackling the pendulums, isn't she? How many times do I have to tell her? Don't train alone! It only embeds your errors. Bring our young damsel to the courtyard. She wants to practice? She'll get to practice"

"Don't get mad at her"

"Why the hell not? The little whippersnapper refuses to do as she's told!"

"You like that about her"

"True, I suppose I'm partly to blame. But this has to end. Fighting monsters is not something to be taken lightly. She needs to understand that if she is to become one of us. I'll see you below"

Geralt then headed down to the pendulum; a set of logs with a much bigger log swinging between it which is used by witchers to practice footwork and swordsmanship…which Ciri is doing blindfolded.

"Wrong" said Geralt, which made her almost lose her balance and inadvertently proves Geralt's eagle-eyed assessment true. "Now I see why you were so eager to practice. Strike!"

"Ha!" said Ciri, who then used some showy moves on the pendulum which almost cost her her wooden sword, but she caught it with her right foot and flipped it behind her back, catching it again in her hand this time.

She continued to show off her skills to Geralt, but if Geralt was impressed at all, he didn't show it. Instead, he simply continued to finish instructing her by saying "You're not in the circus. Pirouette! Wrong. Footwork! Enough. Get down"

Ciri looked behind her in the direction of the sound of Geralt's voice. "With a flip?" she asked. "What do you think?"

She backflipped off the logs. "All right, take off the blindfold. You've got work to do. Your reflexes are still slow"

"Maybe for a witcher"

"Think drowners and strigas will go easy on you because you haven't undergone the mutations? Though in your shoes, I'd fear Vesemir more than any striga. Disobeying his instructions…unwise."

"Well, yes…but that book was horribly dull!"

"I know. And you know it's no excuse"

"Ugh. I'm sorry. It won't happen again"

"Sorry's not good enough. You're gonna read "Ghouls and Alghouls" in it's entirety. Appendices included."

"No, please…I'd rather clean the stables!"

"End of discussion. Come on. We'll practice with the others down below"

"Shall we run the walls?"

"Of course. This a witcher school or an elven bathhouse?"

At this, Geralt and Ciri raced each other to the courtyard. After climbing up and down some scaffolding, Geralt made it to the yard first. "I won!" he said.

"Your legs are longer." Ciri pointed out. "I'll show you. Just need to grow a bit first."

Vesemir and two other witchers, Lambert and Eskel, are there as well. "Oh no…Vesemir's got that look" said an unnerved Ciri.

"What'd you expect?"

"I'm very sorry, Uncle Vesemir."

"Young blood craves action, I understand that. But when you fight a beast, knowledge counts as much as your silver sword. At the very least, you ought to be able to tell a ghoul from an alghoul…"

"By markings, like unto the panther tigris that in Zerrikania dwells, and the sickly paleness of it's visage"

"Hmm. So you did read the chapter. Still, you should've asked if…"

"But you were asleep, Uncle Vesemir"

"So you did the reading. Why not admit it right off?"

"'Never pounce on an advantage as soon as it appears. Wait till it stands to have maximum effect' Uncle Vesemir's words."

"Well, you're a quick study. Quick, but mischievous. Fine. We've talked enough. Geralt, you're with me. Lambert, you're with Eskel. Ciri with the dummy"

"Huh…again?"

"Stop groaning and grab a sword!" said Vesemir. She walked off and did as she was told…for once, and Vesemir turned to Geralt. "What do you think? Should we start by reviewing the fundamentals or go right to free training?"

"Should work on the basics. Even skilled masters need to hone the fundamentals…and Ciri's barely a novice"

At these words, the two witchers prepared to spar with each other. Vesemir drew his steel sword and said to the White Wolf "Draw your sword, Geralt!"

The Wolf did just that and Vesemir continued: "Quick cuts! One, two, three!" and Geralt swung his sword at Vesemir in quick succession. The older witcher blocked and parried his blows. "strong strikes, now! Give it all you got!"

He turned to Ciri and added "Never lock your elbow when striking, young lady!"

Geralt's sword met Vesemir's again three times in a row. But this time, the former struck the latter's blade in a much more heavy-handed manner. "Position, Ciri! Footwork! Remember!"

"Now – parrying, Ciri! See how Geralt holds his sword? Its angle?"

"What am I supposed to parry? I'm fighting a stupid dummy"

"Pretend now, live later! Riposte. Strike, counter-strike! Now, young lady, to bring the day to a close, we'll go over a few Witcher Signs. Let's start with Quen. Ciri, Quen is sometimes called "the witcher's shield." Now watch carefully to see why. Cast Igni, Geralt. I wanna see sparks fly!"

Geralt used Igni on Vesemir, who blocked it using Quen. "See?" he asked Ciri rhetorically. "If not for Quen, I'd be aflame by now. Aard, Geralt. Come on!"

Geralt used Aard and caused Vesemir to stagger. "See that, Ciri? Aard will knock anyone or anything off-balance, destroy their rhythm. Time for Axii. Dammit, I hate this feeling…ugh…Axii can really muddle your mind"

Geralt used Axii on the old witcher, leaving him literally dazed and confused for a moment. When Vesemir regained his senses again, he said "Yrden, now. Show her, Geralt."

Geralt casted a large purple magic rune on the ground which slowed Vesemir down. "See this, Ciri? Couldn't move if I wanted to. Throw a bomb. Don't worry, Ciri. Quen will dampen the blow."

Geralt tossed a small bomb at Vesemir, who used Quen to protect himself from the small explosion. "Fine, enough. Continue training at will."

They continued to spar with each other for a little longer, using everything at their disposal. Swords, bombs _and_ Signs. Until finally, Geralt sheathed his sword and so did Vesemir. They both saw Ciri knock the helmet off the dummy and sent it flying over the castle wall.

"Whooaaa, you really showed him, kid!" Lambert commented. Ciri started climbing the wall. "Ciri, get down here!" Geralt called to her, but if she heard him, she elected to ignore him ad hopped over and out of sight. "Huh, the little she-devil" said Vesemir. "Soon as she's back, we'll set her to polishing all the swords at Kaer Morhen"

Vesemir then walked off and Geralt asked Ciri in a voice loud enough for her to hear…or at least he hoped it was "Find that helmet?! Ciri?! Ugh, I'll make sure to find every last blade for you"

Then he noticed part of the dummy's burlap is torn. "What the…?" he said, and peeled it back to reveal a corpse. "Vesemir!" he cried out, but the old witcher didn't answer. A blizzard then started and a huge, evil-looking ship pulled up to the wall on the left. Geralt and his comrades were frozen in place by magic. Ciri was on the wall and she was also frozen in place. A very large, sinister-looking figure fully clad in black armour said "I've long awaited this. And you, White Wolf."

One of his soldiers swung his sword at Ciri. "Noooo!" Geralt cried.

…

 _White Orchard, Temeria, about a decade or more later._

Geralt finally awoke from the nightmare back on the Temerian hill with Vesemir. "You all right?"

"Mhm. Had a nightmare…"

"About?"

"Take forever to explain"

Vesemir looked to the western horizon and saw that the sun had not yet risen. "Dawn's some way off. We've got time."

Geralt paused for a moment, then began by saying "started in the guest room at Kaer Morhen. I was relaxing in the tub, and next to me…"

"Triss?"

"Yennefer. Funny, isn't it? She's never been there. Seemed so real in my dream, though."

"Was she nagging you about something?"

"Hm. Mhm"

"True to life, indeed. We'll find her."

"I know we will. That's not what worries me. You've seen her tracks. She's at full gallop all the time, breakneck speed through wild lands and devastated battlefields…she's in a hurry to get somewhere, or she's fleeing from something. It means trouble of some sort."

"Be surprised if she wasn't in trouble. She's always poked her nose in beehives. Courtly intrigues here, mages' conspiracies there. What do you expect?"

"Don't know. Guess I thought things would finally calm down once we were reunited. At least for a while."

"Calm? With Yennefer? Good luck"

"In the dream, I went and found Ciri. Then we trained."

"Those were the days…hm, the little she-devil. I've trained kids who were faster, stronger, but none had her character. It didn't well, did it? Your dream"

"No. The Wild Hunt appeared, attacked Ciri…I couldn't move. Stood there like a stump"

"It was just a dream"

"That's the problem. It was more – in the past, when Ciri entered my dreams, something was wrong. She was in danger."

"We taught her how to defend herself from anything, wraiths included."

Geralt looked towards the horizon and saw that the sun was finally beginning to rise. "Be dawning soon. Time to go"

"Wait, show me the letter from Yennefer. Might've overlooked some hint in there."

"Didn't overlook anything. We were meant to meet in Willoughby. Meanwhile, one army or another burned the village to the ground. All we can do is follow the trail, so…"

"Stop talking and give me the letter." Vesemir interrupted him. Geralt did as he said and the elder witcher inhaled the perfumed scent coming from it through his nose. "Well, how about that. It does smell of lilac and gooseberries"

"You were gonna read it, not sniff it."

The old man looked over the parchment and read parts of it aloud. "We must meet. Soon…Willoughby, near Vizima. Hmm…nothing here to guide us there. What's this postscript? "I still have the Unicorn"?"

"That's private. Very private"

"Ah…I understand. At least I think I do. Maybe not entirely, but perhaps that's for the best"

"Back on topic. How's it look? How far are we behind Yennefer?"

"Two, three days. Trail's fresh, but it looks like it leads to the main road. Could get muddled there"

Suddenly, their horses were spooked and Vesemir said "Wait – hear that?"

"I hear it. I smell it. Ghouls"

The two witchers made short work of the hellish beasts, then sheathed their weapons and walked over to their steeds. "Of course, when armies pass, necrophages follow. Let's go before any more show up"

Geralt mounted Roach, his mare, and Vesemir hopped on his horse around the same time. Then they spurred their mounts on down the main road. "Did I ever tell you about this sorcerer I knew? Couldn't stop talking about how useful they are as creatures"

"Because you can make potions from their blood?"

"Heh, no. Because by eating rotting corpses, they prevent epidemics"

"Hrmph. Did he not know they also eat the living?"

"No. Really upset him, too…his theory collapsed"

After riding a little further, they see a looted village's makeshift gallows. "War's not going our way" said Vesemir. "We have a side?" Geralt asked. "The Northern Realms"

"Strange" Geralt thought to himself. "I thought witchers were supposed to be neutral…"

He put that thought aside and corrected him instead by saying "Radovid's Realms, you mean. Temeria and Aedirn are no more."

"Radovid's pledged to restore the old borders. Soon as he wins the war."

"You really believe that?"

"Gotta believe something. It's what keeps us going"

They ride on to a nearby forest and hear a noise in the distance. "We going?" Vesemir asked, and both witchers spurred their mounts on at full gallop to the source of the noise. They find a cart in the aftermath of an attack. A man hiding underneath cries out "Help me! Help!" and the witchers see a huge creature devouring a dead horse. They dismount their steeds and attack the beast. Geralt manages to strike it with his sword before it takes flight with its meal gripped firmly in its talons, though Vesemir received a minor wound from the scuffle.

"Ha-has it gone?" the man hiding under the cart asks. "Yeah, come out!" Geralt answered. The man crawled out from under the cart and said "Gods, that was close! I was sure I'd end up like my mare"

"Provided you got lucky" Vesemir commented. Geralt noticed the man give Vesemir a funny look and explained to him "Your horse died quickly. But griffins like to toy with their prey. Eat it, alive, piece by piece."

Satisfied with that explanation, the man said "Ahh-ha. You'd…you'd like a reward, I suppose"

"Could always use a few crowns"

"Thing is, I've a meagre purse at the moment. Nilfgaardians requisitioned my goods, now this…here."

He gave Geralt a sizable coin purse containing fifty crowns. "Back to the trail?" the witcher asked Vesemir. "Like I said – Leads to the main road and ends there. Muddled"

"You seek someone?"

"Yes, a woman. Medium height, long, black hair. Seen anyone like that?"

"No, but…there's an inn here in White Orchard. Sole one around. Gets its share of travellers. Perhaps you'll learn something there. Besides, the innkeep's my cousin. Tell her Bram sent you, she'll treat you like family."

"Not a bad idea. Especially since that wound needs cleaning" Geralt pointed to the bloody scratch on Vesemir's left shoulder. "Bah, beast barely grazed me. But sure…could use a good rye. Nice and cool, you know, straight from a cellar?"

"Let's go" said Geralt, and at these words, the two witchers got back on their horses and continued following the trail.

…

Later on that day, Geralt learned that the local Nilfgaardian commander had met and spoke with Yennefer and knew where she was. But in order to receive this information, Geralt first had to kill the Griffin. And to do that, he needed two things – information about the beast, such as its sex, its type and the location of its nest – and a specific herb known as buckthorn. The foul stench of this plant will almost certainly attract the monster and give the witchers a chance to ambush it. Once he acquired some buckthorn, and the information, he returned to the inn where Vesemir was waiting outside for him and talking to a peasant.

"Good man, whose field is that on the other side of the river?"

"By the wood? Boyan Klimmek's. Good lad, master witcher, though he…"

"Yes, yes. This Boyan, will he venture out to inspect his grain any time soon?"

"What for? Harvest is a long way off yet"

The peasant left and Geralt approached his fellow witcher. "Got good news and bad news. Good news first – Captain of the Nilfgaardian garrison knows where Yennefer went."

"And the bad's that we have to kill the griffin for him. What else could he want from two witchers? Go on, tell us what you know"

"Griffin's abandoned its lair. Gotta make a lure, set a trap."

"And how's that going?"

"Got the buckthorn."

"Oughta work like a charm. Powerful scent"

"More like stench"

"City boy. Rotting meat, manure, piss – standard smells of the countryside. Remember Tretogor, hunting that zeugl in the trash heap? You spent half the next day bathing, scrubbing yourself."

"How can I forget? You ever gonna stop bringing that up"

Geralt paused for a moment, then changed the subject back to the griffin contract. "Learned some things. It's a male, had its nest in the Vulpine Woods. The Nilfgaardians burned the woods down, killed its mate, smashed their eggs – thought they'd fixed things."

"It's always the same. Instead of sending out for a professional, they try to do it themselves, only end up making matters worse. Hm-hm. Fine, if everything's ready, say the word and we'll get to work."

"I'm ready. No point in waiting. Let's find a good spot to ambush it."

"Picked one out already. Other side of the stream – there's fields and a grove. Plenty of room and far enough so no one'll get in our way."

"Good. Meet you there"

They rendezvous north of town, in the desolate field Vesemir chose. "A stream, amber waves of grain…charming place. Perfect for an ambush" Geralt observed.

"I know how to choose 'em. So, ready?"

"Let's start. Wind's good, bait's scent will spread quickly."

Vesemir stuffed the bait inside a taxidermised sheep and planted it right in the middle of the field. "Now all we have to do is wait. Come on. We can cower in the shade of those birches"

They hid themselves near a tree, as far from the trap as they needed to be and waited for the griffin to show up. "So, tell me…once we find Yennefer, what'll you do? Got your eye on a contract?"

"No. I'll go to Kaer Morhen"

"A little early to settle in for the winter"

"Snows are a way off, yes…and that's what worries me. Nilfgaard's crossed the Pontar in the east. Puts them maybe a week's march from Kaer Morhen. If they reach the valley before the snows can cover the passes…well, we'll need to cover our tracks, hide our paths. Speaking of winter, and wintering – think you'll come this year?"

"Maybe. Might bring a guest."

Later on, they hear the griffin squawking. "Hear that? It's close" said Vesemir. "Let's go give it a warm welcome"

"Wait. Take this" Vesemir gave Geralt a new weapon to shoot the griffin with. "A crossbow?"

"Won it in a card game while you ran around. Might come in handy"

"How about that. Always lectured us on the evils, but you're a gambler yourself"

"Stop talking. Got a griffin to kill"

The griffin lands by the buckthorn disguised as a sheep and the two witchers come out of their hiding place with their silver swords drawn and charged towards it. They gave a loud battle cry as they ran. The griffin saw and heard them coming and squawked loudly at them. Then it took flight and tried to swoop down at them in an attempt to rake its enemies with its talons. "Watch out!" said Vesemir and the witchers managed to roll out of the way before it could. "Damn, it's fast!"

Geralt quickly drew his new crossbow and shot it in the left leg, knocking it out of the sky and making the fight more manageable. They ran towards it again and it tried to swipe them with its wing talons, sending Vesemir flying a short distance across the field, but Geralt managed to avoid its wing and began attacking it from the side where it's more vulnerable.

The griffin gave a high-pitched roar and turned to face Geralt. It stood up on its hind legs and tried to bring the full weight of the upper half of its massive body down onto Geralt, but Geralt rolled out of the way again and shot it in the face with his crossbow. The griffin gave another high-pitched roar; that was so loud, it knocked Geralt off-balance and then it began to fly once more. It flew in a large circle around the field and Vesemir, having already recovered from being struck by the beast's enormous wing, said "it's about to dive!"

He used Aard to knock it out of the sky and once it was grounded again, he ran towards it, but the Royal Griffin lunged itself at him in an attempt to tackle Vesemir. But not before Geralt dived at Vesemir, grabbed him and they both landed on the ground out of the way before the monster could hit them.

The huge griffin then began to take flight and the witchers got back up on their feet. "Don't let it get away!" Vesemir cried out and they chased it to the hilltop mill. Injured and tired, the monster ceased its flight there and allowed the witchers to catch up to it and finish what they started. Despite the fact it was on its last legs, it still put up quite a fight. It might have been dying, but it wasn't dead yet.

That being said, there was no way a wounded griffin could survive against two witchers with, at the very least, a near century of experience. Geralt finished it off by striking it upwards with his silver blade. It gave one last roar and then it died.

"Not bad. Not bad. Though you could stand to improve a few things"

"For example?"

"Upward vertical strike – it's too obvious. But more on that later. Take the griffin's head to the Black Ones. I'll ready our horses. Meet me at the inn"

Vesemir walked off back to the tavern and Geralt used his knife to cut off the Griffin's head. He took it as a trophy, mounted it on his saddle and rode north to the Nilfgaardian encampment. As he entered, he saw the commander named Peter inspecting grain brought by the peasant he brokered a deal with earlier. "What the hell is this?" he asked in a curt manner.

"R-rye" the peasant answered.

"You take me for a blind man or a fool? This grain is rotten"

"I—I didn't know" the peasant whimpered. "So, a fool. Dammit, you never learn…military codex, article two, section three: for the delivery of defective goods – fifteen lashes with a knout. Make it so"

"No, no, no! By the gods, no!"

Soldiers take him into a nearby building, leaving Geralt with Peter. "What?" the latter asked matter-of-factly.

"Guess you've dropped your good uncle act"

"It was no act. I extended a hand to these people. They spat on it."

"Could it be 'cause it held the sword that killed their loved ones?"

"Hah! A moralist! And what would you have done in my stead?"

"Wouldn't ever be in your stead"

"Tell me why you've come"

"Fulfilled my end of the bargain. Your turn. Where did Yennefer go?"

"To Vizima"

"She was a day's ride from here the whole time? Might've said so"

"Yes, I might have. But you would not have killed the Griffin. Tit for tat"

Geralt then went to leave, but Peter called out "Halt! We are not done"

Geralt turned around to see the commander holding a sizable coin purse in his hand. "It's yours, this gold. I would not want you to say you were inadequately compensated."

Geralt took the coin and left the encampment. After finishing up the griffin contract, he returned to the White Orchard inn, sitting at Vesemir's table. "Yennefer's in Vizima. Got a few friends there, so…something wrong?"

He looked at a nearby table of ruffians and bandits. One of them was stabbing the table with a knife. "Look around. Trouble brewing"

"Who are they?"

"Patriots. Drinking their seventh round for Temeria, fists starting to itch."

"Don't see any Nilfgaardians"

"They'll find another foe. I'll buy some provisions for the journey. Then we'll go. Geralt, we should stay out of it…just this once"

Vesemir goes to the innkeep, a woman named Elsa. Another woman sitting nearby notices the missing coat of arms shield. "What happened to the Lilies?" she asked.

"Took 'em down" said Elsa. "Took 'em down. To hang a golden sun there now?"

"I cannot show Temerian colours. They'll come and burn the tavern down."

"Maybe it's true what they say. You fond of the Imperials? You Nilfgaard's whore?"

"I'll let that pass. I know grief eats at your heart."

"You know shit. They hanged my sister – dragged her out o' the cloister like a dog. Said Nilfgaard's no place for superstition. That they don't fear the wrath of the gods. And you, do you fear it? If not for Annie, your child would have choked on its navel-string. You owe your son to my sister attending the birth. And you don't fear the gods' wrath?"

She grabbed Elsa by the arm. "Let go!" the innkeep demanded, but the woman gripping her arm did no such thing. "You don't fear it, you cunt?"

She grabbed Elsa by the head this time and slammed it on the table several times, causing blood to flow from the innkeep's nose, until Vesemir had no choice but to intervene. He grabbed the woman and forced her to let go of Elsa, but she managed to free herself from his grip. "Leave me be!"

The woman leaves, Geralt gets up from his seat to help the innkeep, but the patriots follow him. "Recognise this medallion. You know what it means. Back off" said Vesemir, holding his medallion and showing it to them.

"You all right?" Geralt asks Elsa and helps her up. As he turned, one of the patriots said "They say witchers steal young 'uns!"

"That true?" said a second.

"What'd the emperor promise you freaks? Your own land? Like he did the elves once?"

"Get out, all of you" Vesemir replied matter-of-factly.

"We ain't goin' nowhere. And neither are you"

They draw their weapons and the witchers do the same. "They won't back down now"

"I can see that"

The witchers slaughter the attackers. Geralt cuts off one's head and it rolls to the feet of the woman who violently assaulted the innkeep earlier. He sheathes his sword and extends a hand to the woman. "It's all right. It's over"

But the woman refused his help and said "Leave me be! Get away!"

"See his face?" A man called out. "Gods save us!"

"Begone. And don't ever come back"

"So much for not getting involved" said Vesemir. "Come on. Let's go"

The witcher's leave, coming face to fact with several Nilfgaardian soldiers. "That brawl. We didn't start it" Geralt explained. But then a woman approached from behind them. And she wasn't just any woman, either. She was of medium height, long raven hair, violet eyes and dressed in black and white, smelling of lilac and gooseberries. In other words, she was precisely the woman Geralt and Vesemir were looking for. Yennefer of Vengerberg.

"Excuses, excuses…you've not changed a bit."

"Ye…Yen?" Geralt stammered. "How?"

"I received a report. About a witcher who'd appeared in White Orchard. I knew it was you. Looking for me. I might have waited until you'd found me, but…you know me. Patience has never been my strong suit. It's…good to see you, Geralt. I…I'd even embrace you…were you not covered in blood"

"Sorry…wasn't expecting to see you. To be honest, this isn't at all how I imagined we'd meet"

"How did you imagine it?"

"He didn't imagine you'd have a Nilfgaardian escort." Vesemir chimed in. "Don't get me wrong, Yennefer. I'm glad to see you…but I do think you owe us an explanation"

"And I shall provide it…In Vizima. Ready your horses"

"We can talk here. Some charming orchards nearby. In bloom, even, so you almost can't smell the corpses."

"A tempting proposition. Sadly, I must say no. You see, someone awaits you in Vizima. Someone who doesn't like to be kept waiting. Emperor Emhyr var Emreis…or, to those on more intimate terms with him; The White Flame Dancing on the Graves of His Foes"

"Doubt I number among that group. Far as I remember, last time we saw each other, he wanted to kill me"

"Well, now he wishes to make you an offer"

"The kind one can't refuse"

"I didn't. Though I could have"

"Must have been a damn good offer, then. Not many things you'd give up your freedom for. And even fewer people"

"The sooner we set off, the sooner you'll find out"

"What about you?"

"I'm going in the opposite direction. I somehow doubt the Emperor's invitation mentioned me. Besides, I've got things to do at Kaer Morhen, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. Thanks for your help, Vesemir. See you soon"

They clasp arms and part ways. Geralt then approaches Yennefer, who asks him "How's your horse? Swift?"

"Can't complain. Why do you ask?"

"I'd like to be back behind some thick city walls. As soon as possible"

Geralt waves goodbye to Vesemir as he, Yennefer, and the soldiers mount their horses and start leaving White Orchard. On the way to Vizima, they pass a shrine to a goddess worshipped by the local Nordlings and Geralt says to Yennefer "You know…had a dream about you recently."

"Knowing you, it was probably filthy"

"Just the beginning. But then…"

"But then?"

Snow starts falling and Geralt looks in the treeline behind them and sees Wild Hunt riders and hounds approaching at breakneck speed. Yennefer notices them and commands to the soldiers "Ride! Now!"

They spur their horses on as fast as they can go. The Hunt gains on them and a Nilfgaardian soldier calls out in his native tongue "Watch out!"

Yennefer's small escort is decimated by the riding swordsmen, leaving most knocked out of the saddle, and one poor guy dragged alongside his horse. As they cross a bridge, the sorceress zaps the bridge with a spell, destroying it and preventing the enemy riders from pursuing her and Geralt further.

In the horizon, Vizima can be seen. "Yennefer, how'd they…"

Before Geralt could finish, the raven-haired woman interrupts him by saying "We shall talk of this tomorrow, all right? After the audience"


	2. Chapter 2: Imperial Audience

**Chapter 2: Imperial Audience**

(Author's note: I know this belongs in the "crossover section, but I searched the categories for "The Witcher" and found there is none, so I had to make this a regular Skyrim fic. And yes, this might have started off as a Witcher fic, but we shall get to Skyrim later. For now, all I ask is that you be patient and wait a few chapters until then. Now, without further ado, let's continue on to the next chapter.)

One day later, Geralt is having a bath at the Royal Palace in Vizima while maidens help scrub him. A man, Emhyr's chamberlain, enters and bids them to leave, much to the witcher's chagrin. He inspects the dirt level of Geralt's hair. "Think Emhyr cares if I'm clean?" the Nordling asked.

"The gentleman will refer to His Imperial Majesty by his full title or not at all. The gentleman will be seated in the bergere"

"The what now?"

The chamberlain pointed to a wooden seat and said "In that chair"

Geralt sat down on the chair and the chamberlain looked at his attendant. "Cledwyn, please shave the gentleman – sideburns to half an inch"

"What's wrong with my beard? Always thought it added to my dignity." Geralt commented. "It does" the chamberlain prefaced. "Yet it also detracts from your elegance. In Nilfgaard, we consider beards hard on the eyes. Especially beards infested with lice"

"Been on the road awhile. Fine, do your thing"

"Tilt your head back, please. And sit still" said Cledwyn. Geralt did as he was told and the man started covering his beard with shaving cream, then began to shave it off carefully.

"And prepare to answer some questions" a well-dressed man said as he entered the room. "General, I am not certain this is the most appropriate time" the Chamberlain voiced his concern. "I cannot think of a better time. Men turn honest when they feel a blade to their throat"

He approaches Geralt to introduce himself. "Morvran Voorhis; commander of the Alba Division. Before they take you in to see the emperor, witcher, there's some information I need you to verify. It's a formality, but one that must be seen to"

"Sure. Paperwork's gotta be in order"

"So, Geralt of Rivia. Place of birth – unknown, parents – unknown, age – unknown…all insignificant details. Let us proceed to more recent events – the siege of La Valette Castle. The fate of the defending commander, one Aryan"

"We fought on opposing sides, true. Then we landed in the same dungeon. Aryan escaped, set fire to the castle on his way out."

"Ahh, so that is how the blaze started. Our reports suggested the dragon was responsible. Moving on. You found shelter in charming Flotsam, and from there, made your way to Vergen. My question is – how?"

"I left Flotsam with Iorveth, commander of a Scoia'tael unit."

"A slayer of monsters and a slayer of men…you forge interesting alliances"

"Something tells me my most interesting is yet to come. Go on, next question – before my beard grows back in."

"We shall shave you again if it does. Very well. The infamous summit at Loc Muinne. You were there. And once again meddled in the affairs of the mighty"

"The mighty had imprisoned Triss Merigold. Oughta know I care about her. And I tend to rescue those I care about"

"And so you did, handing Radovid control of the Conclave and Council of Mages in the process"

"Nilfgaard recently started a war. Unprovoked. So do us a favour and stop moralising"

"The gentleman must sit still" Cledwyn chimed in. "I am almost done"

"I'm afraid I might find that difficult" Morvran continued. "Because from what I know, shortly afterwards, you watched a defective megascope blow your friend Sile de Tansarville to bits"

"Huh, an old acquaintance, more like. Not so close that I felt bad for her, but close enough that I knew she deserved it"

"He believes he alone knows what is good and what is evil, and that gives him the right to dispense justice" Your comrade, Letho of Gulet, described you so. Quite accurate, I'd say.

"My comrade – your agent"

"Well, national interest calls on one to forge difficult alliances at times. Alliances with witchers included"

"That an ongoing alliance? What's Letho up to?"

"I had hoped you would answer that question"

"Ah. So Letho's hiding from you. Must have a good reason. Was there a shift in national interest that might have caused that? I don't know where he is. Wouldn't tell you if I did, anyway. Blade or no blade to my throat"

"I believe that is all." Said Morvran. He gave Geralt a parchment and a quill. "Your signature, please, affirming you stated the whole truth and nothing but the truth, on pain of imprisonment or death, et cetera, et cetera. Here…and there"

"With these formalities seen to" the chamberlain prefaced. "I would ask the general to leave the room. We shall be choosing the gentleman's attire. An important matter, but one that does not require the general's assistance"

"Shame…I might have given you some advice. So long, Geralt. Good luck with your audience" said Morvran. He then took his leave and the witcher was led next door to an outfit display.

"Good" said the chamberlain. "Now the gentleman may dress. Sadly, I did not receive exact measurements. If the garments chafe, our tailors will adjust them"

"Feels more like I'm being readied for a wedding"

"Were that so, I would have prepared the gentleman a frock, a tailcoat, or possibly a dinner jacket. In point of fact, the gentleman will choose from these garments."

Three black Nilfgaardian doublets were adorned on display stands in front of Geralt, complete with a pair of elegant Nilfgaardian trousers and boots each. "Black, black…or black" Geralt observed.

"We do not like garish colours in Nilfgaard" the Chamberlain explained.

Geralt examined the outfits more closely. The one on the left didn't look much different from the one on the right, but the one in the middle had a different collar and the Golden Sun representing Nilfgaard pinned on the left side near the collar. Geralt chose that outfit, if only because it stood out from the others and put it on.

"And they say clothes do not make the man" the chamberlain commented. "Does the outfit satisfy the gentleman?"

"A studded doublet and a sword on my back – that's what would satisfy me. But tough, when in Nilfgaard…"

"Yes?"

"It's a saying. So what now? Powder my nose?"

"No need. The gentleman's complexion is light enough" the chamberlain answered. "The gentleman is to stand before the Ruler of the North and the South. I must confirm that he knows how to bow"

"I'm not some boor. I know how to bow"

"Please demonstrate."

Geralt did a simple head nod. "That, sir, is how you might bow to a whore on the street corner, not to the Emperor of Nilfgaard." Said an unimpressed chamberlain. "Please watch"

He gave Geralt a proper demonstration of a bow before a Nilfgaardian emperor. "Leg extended, hand flat, head down, chin to chest. The gentleman will rehearse"

The chamberlain stood up and watched Geralt bow in the exact same manner as he…well, not quite. Geralt's bow lacked elegance and discipline, but that was to be expected of a low-born witcher from the North. "Hmm…lacking fluidity and grace. But we've learned to expect less of Nordlings. Come with me"

The chamberlain then led Nilfgaard's guest out of the room and down a corridor full of armed guards standing in front of the walls that have been impressively decorated with statues of nights and swords and shields hung on the walls above their heads. "The gentleman will address the emperor only when asked to and using the appropriate title.

"Your Archmagnificency?"

"I see the gentleman is in the mood for jests. I fear the emperor might not share his disposition. "Your Majesty" will suffice. Spoken loudly, clearly and with respect."

They enter Emhyr's room; several nobles are already there. The chamberlain acts as a herald. In his native tongue, he said "Bow before His Imperial Majesty, The White Flame dancing on the Graves of His Foes, Emhyr var Emreis! Bow!"

The nobles bowed with the Chamberlain. Geralt however, needed a very brief moment to decide whether or not he should do the same.

The Butcher of Blaviken might have built himself a reputation for bowing to no man, even an Emperor, but the aforementioned Emperor had a reputation of his own for being a ruthless and bloodthirsty man. For a very brief moment, the White Wolf looked at the chamberlain bowing before His Imperial Majesty and figured that if he did not bow, the Ruler of the North and South would blame him and have him flogged or worse as punishment. And Geralt considered the chamberlain to be a friend…therefore he did not wish the chamberlain to be punished for something that was not his fault at all. So he bowed before it was too late.

"Your Imperial Majesty" Geralt addressed the emperor. A nobleman said to Emhyr in the Nilfgaardian speech "As your Majesty wished…" and also bowed. The emperor then said to everyone in the room except Geralt, for he was not familiar with the mother tongue of the Black Ones, "All except the Witcher will leave"

The nobles then left Geralt to speak in private with Emhyr. "I thought you bowed before no man" the emperor said while pointing his finger at Geralt. "Didn't want to disappoint the chamberlain. We're friends" he replied. "Take it you didn't summon me to reminisce about the good old days, so…"

"Silence" Emhyr cut him off. He rose from his seat and walked over to a nearby painting of a little girl with ashen hair. "My daughter Cirilla…she's returned. And she's in danger. The Wild Hunt pursues her. You will find her and bring her to me"

Needless to say, Geralt couldn't believe what he had just heard for it had been…too long since he last seen or heard from Ciri. The emperor appeared to be most certain of this, which wasn't really surprising given he commanded armies in the tens of thousands and a vast network of spies all over the Continent, even in the North. He must have learned something. And there was no doubt Geralt wanted to believe him, but without solid evidence, the emperor's word was not enough to make him believe with a sufficient amount of certainty. Besides, no man was infallible. Not even the White Flame Dancing on the Grave of His Foes.

"Are you sure? Ciri…left. Went far, far away"

"Do you believe I'd drag you in the middle of a war to discuss a mere rumour?" a somewhat disgruntled Emhyr turned to Geralt and asked. "I think anyone can be wrong. Even an emperor"

"I had forgotten how insolent you can be." Emhyr turned back to face the girl in the picture – who was not just any girl, of course, but his own daughter Ciri. "I haven't the time to convince you, nor the desire, in fact – Yennefer will do that, after this audience."

"How many men do you have in your army? Twenty thousand? Thirty? So why me?"

"You know why. Because she trusts you."

"She trusts me, yes. So tell me why you're looking for her. Doubt it's to make up for all those lost years"

"For reasons of state. As always. Enough of this banter. You will agree regardless. If for no other reason than I shall pay you. More than you customarily receive for a contract. Considerably more."

"Need information, not motivation. Ciri…leaves few tracks. She'll be hard to find."

"My corps of spies will help you. Count on them, and my army, should the need arise. Yennefer will tell you the rest. This audience is finished. Mererid!"

He called for his chamberlain from earlier, who entered the room no sooner than once he heard the Emperor call his name. "Take him to the sorceress"

Geralt then followed Mererid out of the room. "Follow me, if the gentleman pleases. Please keep close. There are many honourable guests in the palace, whom the gentleman…"

"Disgusts?"

"…need not bother"

Mererid led Geralt through the courtyard to the chamber in which Yennefer was currently located. "Once the gentleman is done, he should see me to retrieve his possessions"

Geralt then walked in to Yennefer's chamber. On his way to the court sorceress, he passed Ambassador var Attre who was dictating to a scribe what he wished to have written down in his report on a parchment regarding matters involving the free city of Novigrad – the largest city in the North to which he was Nilfgaard's ambassador. "That quill sharpened yet?" he asked. "Yes? Then scribe. The true authority in Novigrad is not the city council or the merchant's guild, but the Church of the Eternal Fire and the criminal underworld. At times, it is difficult to tell one from the other…"

"Please, Your Excellency, I am falling behind"

"You know what? I'll write the report myself. You'll need only to prepare a clean draft in triplicate"

Geralt then entered Yennefer's room. Upon seeing him in his doublet, she greeted him by saying "Geralt! That tunic – you look positively smashing"

"Ugh, dying to take it off" the witcher complained.

"I'd consider that a proposition under different circumstances…one I might even take you up on. But we've matters to attend to. Now do you understand why I'm at Emhyr's court"

"Mhm. And it seems we're in the same boat now. Ciri – she's really back? There's no chance he's mistaken?"

They stare at a parchment of Ciri's alleged likeness. "Look – that's more or less what she looks like now, or so our agents claim. Our little witcher's grown into a young lady"

"How about that…she's grown up."

"It's been years since you trained together at Kaer Morhen. A great deal has changed"

"You haven't. Not a bit"

Yennefer smiled at the Wolf and even blushed a little. "I missed those awkward compliments of yours…but let's focus on Ciri, alright?"

"Right. Emhyr said the Wild Hunt's after her. I'd find that hard to believe – before what happened yesterday. How'd they manage to track us down"

"Because of me" the sorceress answered. "You see…I've spent months searching for Ciri. Using locating spells, haruspicy, geomancy, anything, really. I knew the Wild Hunt might sense it, perhaps even find me, but…I thought I'd tricked them"

"Well, guess you were wrong"

"Hm. I've sensed them on my trail, hunting me, for some time. If not for you and Emhyr's soldiers, they'd have gotten what they were after. I can't risk another encounter like that. It's time to put away the magic, turn to more traditional methods…to the best tracker I know. You must find her, Geralt. Before the Wild Hunt does."

"What's the Wild Hunt want from Ciri?"

"I've no clue, Geralt. Might've written them to ask, but I don't have their address. I know as much as you do. It must be about her blood, her gift. As for what the Hunt wishes to do with that gift, I—I'd prefer not to think about it, really"

"So where's Ciri been seen?"

"In two places – Velen and Novigrad. The trail in Velen is most promising. You should make that your first stop. Ask for a merchant named Hendrik at the Inn at the Crossroads. One of the emperor's agents, he should get in touch with you."

"That's it? No passwords, secret handshakes?"

"None. Sorry to spoil your boyhood fantasies. All we have in Novigrad are unconfirmed reports, rumours. But there you will have the help of our mutual acquaintance. Triss Merigold. Apparently, she's got a cosy flat in the main square."

"Sure she'll be delighted to see me. What about you? What will you do?"

"I shall sail for Skellige. There was a magic explosion there recently, blew half the forest down. I believe this had something to do with Ciri. I'll be in Kaer Trolde. Join me there once you've learned something"

"One thing before we go…Why didn't you contact me? Didn't need me? Didn't even want to see me?"

"I didn't want to spoil things. I'd heard you and Triss made a great couple"

"Yen…I'd lost my memory"

Yennefer frowned at Geralt. "Really? That's your excuse? Let's drop it, all right? "It's not what you think" or "it helped me understand how much I loved you" – I don't wish to hear it, any of it"

A moment or two later, they are both standing in front of the fireplace. "Guess this means we'll need to split up again. Not my preference, but I understand. Clock's ticking"

"It is indeed. So, why don't I teleport you to Velen, get you there at once?"

"Not gonna happen. I'll go on horseback. Soon as I get changed."

"Have it your way. Oh, and…you really look quite dashing in black velvet."

"Think so? Maybe I can have some of my armour lined with it. Hm. Good luck, Yen"

"Same to you. And if you wish to learn what's happened in the world while you and Vesemir roamed the wilderness, talk to Ambassador var Attre. That's him over there. And Geralt, I know it's wartime, but try not to be a hero, all right? Just check those leads and come back to me – in one piece"

She then gave him a kiss and said "I shall be waiting". Yennefer then used her to magic to open a portal, which she then used to leave the room – and Vizima entirely – to begin her search for Ciri on Ard Skellig. Geralt, on the other hand, decided to have a little chat with the Ambassador before leaving.

"Ambassador var Attre?" he asked, and the man in question looked to his left to see a witcher standing there. "Yennefer suggested I ask you about current events. The war and so on"

"Of course. The emperor's servants keep no secrets from each other. If you will, let us approach the map"

To summarise, Geralt had a fairly brief and honest conversation in private with the Ambassador. No propaganda needed, since nobody else was currently in the chamber. The witcher asked him how the war was going – which to his surprise, was apparently going very well, before Radovid attacked Kaedwen – Redania's ally and neighbour – and now instead of two weak enemies, the Nilfgaardian's face one powerful foe. So there is hope for the North after all.

He also made inquiries about Velen, Novigrad and Skellige and how the war has affected those regions. Then, when he was finished, he left Yennefer's chamber. Mererid was waiting for him outside. "How may I serve the gentleman?" he asked.

"By returning my things" Geralt answered matter-of-factly. Mererid then walked off to fetch the emperor's guest's gear while Geralt stood and waited for him in the courtyard. When the chamberlain returned with the White Wolf's possessions, Geralt crinkled his nose at his clothes' new smell.

"Citrus and cloves" Mererid told him. The fragrance will keep the gentleman's robes fresh somewhat longer"

"Mhm. Thanks bunches"

He then walked off and Mererid reminded him before finally parting "The Emperor is not known for his patience. He wants his daughter back, safe and sound. As soon as possible."

"Yeah, mentioned something of the sort. So long"

…

After a few days of riding, Geralt finally made it to war-torn Velen, Northern Temeria, the region south of Novigrad – called "No Man's Land" by the locals. And for good reason, too. No gods or masters rule over it. He who wishes to survive here must seek his own protectors.

It has never even been close to what you might call a "paradise", but since the war started, it has been bathed in blood…and quite literally, too. Armies have swept through this land, trampling fields, ransacking granaries and setting villages ablaze. Famine also plagues the people of Velen.

Though the Nilfgaardians have crushed Temeria's army, they have found it virtually impossible to control the local peasants because the war has spread their armies thin and the region is made up mostly of swampy forests that are difficult to control. Plenty of places to hide from soldiers in this neck of the woods. And several Nilfgaardian patrols have still yet to return to their camps. Consequently, the Black Ones were forced to temporarily give this province to a local Nordling warlord named Philip Strenger – A.K.A the Bloody Baron – who once served as a low ranking Temerian officer before Emhyr's men smashed the Northern Army. Ambassador var Attre warned Geralt to stay away from him.

The witcher stopped by Hanged Man's Tree and looked up at the corpses of dead men – most likely Temerian soldiers, by the looks of them - hung there by the Nilfgaardians. Hung by their necks from a tree so tall without a fair trial, for the crime of fighting for their freedom. Or so one might presume. There was a good chance some of them might have been mere peasants, who never raised a blade against the Black Ones yet they were falsely accused of aiding and abetting the Temerian forces and sentenced to death for a crime they did not commit. Such was the way of war.

Moving on, Geralt spurred Roach on towards the Inn at the Crossroads, set up near a major fording point in the river. Geralt dismounted his steed at the nearby stables just outside the door, hitched her to a post so she wouldn't go anywhere and entered the premises. The innkeep was cleaning a beer mug when the White One walked in. "Looking for a man. Goes by the name Hendrik"

"What do you want with him?"

Sensing that he was being led around because he hadn't ordered anything yet, Geralt said to the innkeep "Give me a bottle of something strong"

Just a few moments later, while Geralt was enjoying his drink, riders were heard galloping into town. "You gotta go!" the innkeep said. "I'll open the back way for ye!"

"Haven't finished my drink yet" Geralt calmly replied. Men in armour then bursted into tavern. "Innkeep! Vodka!" the first one to enter the room said impatiently. Noticing the strange white-haired man at the bar, carrying two swords on his back, the second asked "Who's this 'un?"

"Brave warrior, looks like" the third and final man answered. "Got two swords, see?"

"Oi, gray boy!" the first man called. "What's the point in having two swords?"

But Geralt did not answer. "Wonder if he keeps an extra prick in his trousers, too" the third man added. "You fuckin' deaf? Gonna say who you are, or do I need to loosen your tongue with me knife?"

Calmly, Geralt answered "I'm a witcher. Heard you wondering about my swords. Well, one's for monsters, the other – for humans. Only got one prick, though. In case you're wondering about that, too"

"Don't touch him. Don't even look at him. Worse than lepers, that lot"

"Saw one in action once. Killed half a dozen, blood everywhere. Freak didn't even show a drop of sweat"

"Got the stench of corpses on him"

"If you wanna rest, come with me" the innkeep said to the mutant and led him around the corner. "Thanks for not starting a row with those swine"

"I don't generally poke my nose into other people's business"

"Lookin' to stay the night?"

"No"

"Ahh…"

"I'm looking for Hendrik"

"Man lives in Heatherton"

"Don't know where that is"

"Other side of the hill. Looked thataway this morn and saw a strange glow. Imperials on the raid, perhaps, but who knows…"

"Anything else you can tell me about Hendrik"

"Odd fellow. Arrived from who knows where for no apparent reason. Shacked up with a widow whose husband was stabbed for a scrap of bread."

"Baron's men don't like strangers"

"Aye, an' he stays out o' their way. Always seems to know when they're comin', always manages to disappear"

"Thanks, innkeep"

Geralt then left the inn and headed for Heatherton. But just as he expected, he was too late. The village had already been ransacked. Homes had been burned to the ground and the local peasants had been slaughtered. At first glance, one might have thought this was just another Nilfgaardian raid…but what was strange about this village was that it was…covered in snow. How could this be, when winter's still a way off? The snows were not scheduled to fall yet. Not for at least a few more months. Perhaps the Black Ones had a powerful mage among them who could manipulate the weather?

No, of course not! The Wild Hunt did it. Why, you might ask? Because Geralt wasn't the only one looking for Hendrik. Sadly, the Wild Hunt had found him first. The White Wolf only knew this because one villager was lucky enough to survive this brutal assault by the infamous wraiths.

His luck, however, would have run out afterwards if not for Geralt. He arrived just in time to save the man from a pack of wild dogs that attacked him right outside his front door. Despite being rescued, the man was too frightened to tell Geralt of his own volition what happened recently, so the witcher had to use Axii to calm him down and prod him to speak.

The Hunt had unfortunately found Hendrik first…and brutally tortured him in order to get him to tell them what he knows about Ciri. And the torture was so bad, there was no way he or any other man could have survived it. He died a horrible, horrible death. Geralt walked into his home to find his mangled corpse on the floor and blood literally everywhere.

Yet despite what Hendrik had been through, the man showed amazing resilience…as he refused to give in no matter what and took the information he had gathered about Ciri with him to the grave.

And though Geralt may not have been able to save Hendrik…or the village, for that matter, he did manage to learn two important things about Ciri. The first being that she had quarrelled with a local witch, and the second was that she had met the local baron in Crow's Perch.

So now Geralt had only two leads – a baron, and some witch hiding in a village called Midcopse. The witcher decided to travel there first and ask around about the local sorceress. From them, he learned she lived in a hut that was not in the village, but somewhere fairly close by.

He followed the clues the peasants gave him and managed to find the hut. The witch in question was standing outside the hut and speaking to a group of peasants. When Geralt managed to get a good look at her, he recognised that she was not just some village herbalist, but a sorceress of the Lodge – a faction of the world's most powerful witches. Keira Metz was her name.

Needless to say, Geralt knew this woman well…though; it had been approximately two years since they last met. He leaned against a nearby wall and observed the peasants entreating her wisdom.

"Miss…cow's a-wheezin'" said a man. "Won't rise from the barn floor. Pus streams from her snout"

Keira gave the man a funny look. "Do I look like a dairy maid to you?"

"No, miss" a woman spoke up. "But you know things. 'Tis our last cow, none other left in the village…"

"Rest died of hunger, or soldiers led 'em off. Oh…we're as good as dead without her"

"I shall give you herbs" said Keira. "Mix them with water drawn from the spring at midnight, then make the cow drink them. But first you must clean out your barn. Thoroughly, is that clear?"

"Thank you, miss! A thousand thanks!"

"Enough! I've had my fill for the day – go home!"

The peasants left and Keira went back inside her hut, ignoring Geralt. "She's in a foul mood. We best come back on the morrow" one peasant commented.

"Watch what you say" another cautioned. "She's quick to ire, apt to take revenge"

"Bitch is in a proper fury." A third spat, ignoring the second peasant's advice. "Needs a man!"

Geralt entered the hut and asked aloud "Is anyone home?" but nobody answered. "Where did she disappear to?"

He searched the hut for Keira, only to find she wasn't home. And there wasn't much inside worth inspecting save for her book collection, a shiny mirror – the kind you don't often see in Velen – a pentagram in chalk drawn on the floor and that's about it…but then Geralt found an inscribed skull on a shelf near the mirror. "Powerful aura" he commented. "Must be some artefact, or…"

It then created a portal on the pentagram. "So, this is where she disappeared to" he said, then stepped in to find the portal lead to a tranquil glade. "Well, well. Nice"

At that moment, he heard a familiar voice say "I was wondering how long it would take you, Geralt. I'm upstairs. Don't be shy. Greetings, witcher"

He ascended the stony steps to find her lounging brazenly in an ornate bath. "Missed a spot" said the wanderer.

"Where?" the witch asked. Geralt pointed to the aforementioned spot and she started scrubbing it. "Hope you didn't come to gawk"

"No. To talk"

"Turn around and wait"

Geralt hesitated for a moment, but Keira signalled with her hand at him to look away and he somewhat reluctantly turned his back to her for a moment. She then got out of the bath and used her magic to clothe herself. Geralt then turned back around and, seeing as how she was now fully dressed, he said "Keira Metz in deep in the heart of Velen…thought you hated the countryside"

"I can assure you I do, now more than ever"

"Heard a witch lived out here. Never would have guessed it was King Foltest's former advisor"

"I'm so pleased the world's still able to astound you, Geralt. I actually envy you that sense of wonder – common in children, knights errant and morons"

"Hm. Someone's grown irritable. Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"I believe I greeted you with a pleasant view. Now tell me what brings you here?"

"I'm looking for a certain young woman"

"Oh, really? Who?"

"Apparently, she quarrelled with a local witch"

"Pff. Someone's been feeding you horseshit. The girls around here are too stupid to quarrel with me."

"She's not from here"

Keira paused for a moment, then deduced "You're up to something, Geralt. If I'm to help you, you must tell me what's going on. Who are you looking for?"

"Ciri"

"Ciri? Well…now I understand the secrecy. Not to mention the brooding, the furled brow. And you say she had some sort of problem with a witch?"

"So, you haven't seen her" Geralt stated the obvious.

"I'm certain I haven't. But recently someone asked me about an ashen-haired young woman. He claimed she would stand out from the peasant crowd"

"Who was it?"

"Not so fast, Geralt. No humble plea? No offering for the witch?"

"What's your rate these days? A couple dozen eggs? Three hens, maybe?"

"My rate rises with every word you speak. I'm not sure you can afford the information anymore."

"Hm, you're pricklier than I remember. Isn't living in nature's lap supposed to be cleansing, calming…?"

"Nature stinks" Keira answered. She paused again for a moment before adding "Oh, sod it, don't give me that look. I know it's Ciri we're talking about. It was an elf – this individual asking about Cirilla. No flea-bitten Scoia'tael slob, either, but an elven mage."

"He say what his name was?"

"He didn't. And he wore a mask. Very secretive all around, but…I liked him. He was intelligent and composed."

"He say what he wanted with Ciri?"

"Only that they were to meet in Velen. He wished to know if she'd arrived before he did"

"What was an elven mage doing in Velen?"

"Well, I tried to ask him, of course, about everything…"

"Of course."

"But you know how elves are – he asked many more questions than he answered."

"He leave any message for her?"

"No, but he asked where to meet her, to lead her to him"

"So you know where to find him?"

"Yes, he said he'd found a hideout in some elven ruins near the village of Midcopse"

After learning about this hideout, Keira walked back down the stony steps with Geralt and opened up a portal. "I'll go there with you" she said.

"Why? Think I'll have trouble finding this place?"

"I've unfinished business with this elf. He promised me something, but he never delivered it. Besides, I know you think as I do – that she might be there. And I'd like to see Cirilla, too"

"Let's go, then"

"Yes, let's"

On that basis, Keira immediately teleported Geralt and herself to the entrance of the aforementioned elven ruins. "This is the place" she commented. "Been here before?" Geralt asked her.

"No. I was hoping the elf would return as he'd promised, or else his waif would appear. At any rate, I've no idea what to expect from this place"

"Well, let's find out"

"Come on!" said the sorceress. They entered the elven ruins, which were dark…too dark to see clearly, so she casted a spell by magically projecting her voice and saying some elvish words to light up the way down the stairs. "Gvella, glan!" she said.

The spell lightened up the area a bit and they headed down the stairs. A short ways inside, Geralt spied familiar soldiers in the distance investigating a room. "The Wild Hunt"

"The what?! Phantom riders?! That means…I thought they didn't exist!"

"Feast your eyes on the non-existent, then"

The riders of the Hunt then disappeared into a portal. "Hm. Got a navigator with them" Geralt spotted a huge figure wearing similar armour to that of the Wild Hunt. Yet unlike the others, he carried neither a sword nor an axe, but a big magic staff. Clearly, he was the Hunt's expert on matters of magic.

"A what?"

"Can you teleport us to the other side?"

"I'd rather teleport us home. Do you really mean to follow them?"

"Teleport. Hurry up!"

"Not sure I like any of this. Follow me"

Keira opened up a portal. "Ready?" she asked Geralt. He allowed her to go first – "Ahhhh!" she screamed from the fall – and the witcher stepped in after her, but then he appeared in a cave elsewhere, alone. It was then Geralt remembered getting separated from your friends was just one of the many reasons why he so strongly disliked being teleported. "Damn portals. Wonder where Keira is now"

He ran down a tunnel – fortunately, not much stood in his way besides a few drowners and some poisonous gases which was nothing he couldn't handle – to find her in a room, where she had found a literal rat's nest. "Geralt! Do something!" she shrieked like a damsel in distress while using magic to shield herself from the swarms of vermin. "They're crawling out of those holes. Use a Sign! Or Bombs! Anything!"

"Stay calm! They're only rats!" Geralt assured her. "I hate…ugh! I hate rats!" she protested. He slashed his way through about half a dozen or more rats and then used Igni to set their nests on fire while Keira continued to shriek and scream during the fight, crying out things like "Geralt!", "Disgusting", "Get them off! Ahh!", "Uggh, it's disgusting!" and "do you know how many diseases they spread?!"

Once the rats were taken care of, Keira finally calmed down and released her protective spell. Geralt approached her and asked "you that afraid of rats? Could have annihilated them with one spell"

She glared at him and Geralt said "fine…won't say anything. So, what happened to you?"

"There's something here, something that distorts teleportation. I've no idea how the Wild Hunt got to the other side problem-free."

"Wild Hunt's teleportation magic is different. Got specially trained mages for that. Navigators, they call them"

"They can have three helmsmen and a parrot for all I care. I'll not risk that again"

"Let's go. Wild Hunt got a good head start on us, but we still stand a chance"

"Have you gone completely mad?! We must leave at once!"

"I gotta know what the Wild Hunt is doing here"

"But we came to find the elven mage, not fight the Hunt!"

"If they reach him first, we might not get a chance to talk to him. Besides…"

"Go on, finish!" Keira curtly interrupted. "Wait…you've some special interest in the Wild Hunt, haven't you? Is this about Ciri? There's something you've not told me, isn't there?"

"Come with me and maybe I will"

"Are you always like this? I'm beginning to feel sorry for Triss and Yen. Oh, very well. Let's go. Gvella, glan!"

They continued their expedition through the ruins until they came upon a magical projection of the mysterious elven mage, who said in his native elven language "Daughter of the Gull. Greetings. I await you, Daughter of the Gull"

"That's him! That's the elf!"

"Follow the sign of your sword!" the elf said again in the Elder Speech. The hologram then deactivated and Geralt asked "What was that? An illusion?"

"No…a morphotic projection"

"A what projection?"

"Something akin to a postbox for mages. Much safer than an ordinary letter, which anyone can intercept en route to its' recipient."

"Message was definitely for Ciri. Daughter of the Gull – Lara Dorren's heir"

"Indeed. It is what the elves titled Ciri. But what was the bit about the sign of her sword? A riddle?"

"Yeah, not a hard one, though. Not if you know she named her sword "Zireael" – 'Swallow'"

"Come now, who apart from you would know that?"

"Might've been the point. Your elven mage secured the passage, hid it, so that only Ciri could find it"

"He failed to foresee that someone like you would show up"

"Nevertheless, I think he was expecting some uninvited guests, made some preparations. Let's hope the Wild Hunt ran into some obstacles."

"Well then, let's go. Do you think following the swallows will suffice?"

"We'll see"

They continued on through a large, watery cavern


	3. Chapter 3: The Nilfgaardian Connection

**Chapter 3: The Nilfgaardian Connection**

(Author's Note: Seems I've made a mistake and it turns out there actually is a "Witcher" category. Never mind, then. Forget what I said about it in the last chapter.)

After a few days of riding, Geralt finally made it to war-torn Velen, Northern Temeria, the region south of Novigrad – called "No Man's Land" by the locals. And for good reason, too. No gods or masters rule over it. He who wishes to survive here must seek his own protectors.

It has never even been close to what you might call a "paradise", but since the war started, it has been bathed in blood…and quite literally, too. Armies have swept through this land, trampling fields, ransacking granaries and setting villages ablaze. Famine also plagues the people of Velen.

Though the Nilfgaardians have crushed Temeria's army, they have found it virtually impossible to control the local peasants because the war has spread their armies thin and the region is made up mostly of swampy forests that are difficult to control. Plenty of places to hide from soldiers in this neck of the woods. And several Nilfgaardian patrols have still yet to return to their camps. Consequently, the Black Ones were forced to temporarily give this province to a local Nordling warlord named Philip Strenger – A.K.A the Bloody Baron – who once served as a low ranking Temerian officer before Emhyr's men smashed the Northern Army. Ambassador var Attre warned Geralt to stay away from him.

The witcher stopped by Hanged Man's Tree and looked up at the corpses of dead men – most likely Temerian soldiers, by the looks of them - hung there by the Nilfgaardians. Hung by their necks from a tree so tall without a fair trial, for the crime of fighting for their freedom. Or so one might presume. There was a good chance some of them might have been mere peasants, who never raised a blade against the Black Ones yet they were falsely accused of aiding and abetting the Temerian forces and sentenced to death for a crime they did not commit. Such was the way of war.

Moving on, Geralt spurred Roach on towards the Inn at the Crossroads, set up near a major fording point in the river. Geralt dismounted his steed at the nearby stables just outside the door, hitched her to a post so she wouldn't go anywhere and entered the premises. The innkeep was cleaning a beer mug when the White One walked in. "Looking for a man. Goes by the name Hendrik"

"What do you want with him?"

Sensing that he was being led around because he hadn't ordered anything yet, Geralt said to the innkeep "Give me a bottle of something strong"

Just a few moments later, while Geralt was enjoying his drink, riders were heard galloping into town. "You gotta go!" the innkeep said. "I'll open the back way for ye!"

"Haven't finished my drink yet" Geralt calmly replied. Men in armour then bursted into tavern. "Innkeep! Vodka!" the first one to enter the room said impatiently. Noticing the strange white-haired man at the bar, carrying two swords on his back, the second asked "Who's this 'un?"

"Brave warrior, looks like" the third and final man answered. "Got two swords, see?"

"Oi, gray boy!" the first man called. "What's the point in having two swords?"

But Geralt did not answer. "Wonder if he keeps an extra prick in his trousers, too" the third man added. "You fuckin' deaf? Gonna say who you are, or do I need to loosen your tongue with me knife?"

Calmly, Geralt answered "I'm a witcher. Heard you wondering about my swords. Well, one's for monsters, the other – for humans. Only got one prick, though. In case you're wondering about that, too"

"Don't touch him. Don't even look at him. Worse than lepers, that lot"

"Saw one in action once. Killed half a dozen, blood everywhere. Freak didn't even show a drop of sweat"

"Got the stench of corpses on him"

"If you wanna rest, come with me" the innkeep said to the mutant and led him around the corner. "Thanks for not starting a row with those swine"

"I don't generally poke my nose into other people's business"

"Lookin' to stay the night?"

"No"

"Ahh…"

"I'm looking for Hendrik"

"Man lives in Heatherton"

"Don't know where that is"

"Other side of the hill. Looked thataway this morn and saw a strange glow. Imperials on the raid, perhaps, but who knows…"

"Anything else you can tell me about Hendrik"

"Odd fellow. Arrived from who knows where for no apparent reason. Shacked up with a widow whose husband was stabbed for a scrap of bread."

"Baron's men don't like strangers"

"Aye, an' he stays out o' their way. Always seems to know when they're comin', always manages to disappear"

"Thanks, innkeep"

Geralt then left the inn and headed for Heatherton. But just as he expected, he was too late. The village had already been ransacked. Homes had been burned to the ground and the local peasants had been slaughtered. At first glance, one might have thought this was just another Nilfgaardian raid…but what was strange about this village was that it was…covered in snow. How could this be, when winter's still a way off? The snows were not scheduled to fall yet. Not for at least a few more months. Perhaps the Black Ones had a powerful mage among them who could manipulate the weather?

No, of course not! The Wild Hunt did it. Why, you might ask? Because Geralt wasn't the only one looking for Hendrik. Sadly, the Wild Hunt had found him first. The White Wolf only knew this because one villager was lucky enough to survive this brutal assault by the infamous wraiths.

His luck, however, would have run out afterwards if not for Geralt. He arrived just in time to save the man from a pack of wild dogs that attacked him right outside his front door. Despite being rescued, the man was too frightened to tell Geralt of his own volition what happened recently, so the witcher had to use Axii to calm him down and prod him to speak.

The Hunt had unfortunately found Hendrik first…and brutally tortured him in order to get him to tell them what he knows about Ciri. And the torture was so bad, there was no way he or any other man could have survived it. He died a horrible, horrible death. Geralt walked into his home to find his mangled corpse on the floor and blood literally everywhere.

Yet despite what Hendrik had been through, the man showed amazing resilience…as he refused to give in no matter what and took the information he had gathered about Ciri with him to the grave.

And though Geralt may not have been able to save Hendrik…or the village, for that matter, he did manage to learn two important things about Ciri. The first being that she had quarrelled with a local witch, and the second was that she had met the local baron in Crow's Perch.

So now Geralt had only two leads – a baron, and some witch hiding in a village called Midcopse. The witcher decided to travel there first and ask around about the local sorceress. From them, he learned she lived in a hut that was not in the village, but somewhere fairly close by.

He followed the clues the peasants gave him and managed to find the hut. The witch in question was standing outside the hut and speaking to a group of peasants. When Geralt managed to get a good look at her, he recognised that she was not just some village herbalist, but a sorceress of the Lodge – a faction of the world's most powerful witches. Keira Metz was her name.

Needless to say, Geralt knew this woman well…though; it had been approximately two years since they last met. He leaned against a nearby wall and observed the peasants entreating her wisdom.

"Miss…cow's a-wheezin'" said a man. "Won't rise from the barn floor. Pus streams from her snout"

Keira gave the man a funny look. "Do I look like a dairy maid to you?"

"No, miss" a woman spoke up. "But you know things. 'Tis our last cow, none other left in the village…"

"Rest died of hunger, or soldiers led 'em off. Oh…we're as good as dead without her"

"I shall give you herbs" said Keira. "Mix them with water drawn from the spring at midnight, then make the cow drink them. But first you must clean out your barn. Thoroughly, is that clear?"

"Thank you, miss! A thousand thanks!"

"Enough! I've had my fill for the day – go home!"

The peasants left and Keira went back inside her hut, ignoring Geralt. "She's in a foul mood. We best come back on the morrow" one peasant commented.

"Watch what you say" another cautioned. "She's quick to ire, apt to take revenge"

"Bitch is in a proper fury." A third spat, ignoring the second peasant's advice. "Needs a man!"

Geralt entered the hut and asked aloud "Is anyone home?" but nobody answered. "Where did she disappear to?"

He searched the hut for Keira, only to find she wasn't home. And there wasn't much inside worth inspecting save for her book collection, a shiny mirror – the kind you don't often see in Velen – a pentagram in chalk drawn on the floor and that's about it…but then Geralt found an inscribed skull on a shelf near the mirror. "Powerful aura" he commented. "Must be some artefact, or…"

It then created a portal on the pentagram. "So, this is where she disappeared to" he said, then stepped in to find the portal lead to a tranquil glade. "Well, well. Nice"

At that moment, he heard a familiar voice say "I was wondering how long it would take you, Geralt. I'm upstairs. Don't be shy. Greetings, witcher"

He ascended the stony steps to find her lounging brazenly in an ornate bath. "Missed a spot" said the wanderer.

"Where?" the witch asked. Geralt pointed to the aforementioned spot and she started scrubbing it. "Hope you didn't come to gawk"

"No. To talk"

"Turn around and wait"

Geralt hesitated for a moment, but Keira signalled with her hand at him to look away and he somewhat reluctantly turned his back to her for a moment. She then got out of the bath and used her magic to clothe herself. Geralt then turned back around and, seeing as how she was now fully dressed, he said "Keira Metz in deep in the heart of Velen…thought you hated the countryside"

"I can assure you I do, now more than ever"

"Heard a witch lived out here. Never would have guessed it was King Foltest's former advisor"

"I'm so pleased the world's still able to astound you, Geralt. I actually envy you that sense of wonder – common in children, knights errant and morons"

"Hm. Someone's grown irritable. Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"I believe I greeted you with a pleasant view. Now tell me what brings you here?"

"I'm looking for a certain young woman"

"Oh, really? Who?"

"Apparently, she quarrelled with a local witch"

"Pff. Someone's been feeding you horseshit. The girls around here are too stupid to quarrel with me."

"She's not from here"

Keira paused for a moment, then deduced "You're up to something, Geralt. If I'm to help you, you must tell me what's going on. Who are you looking for?"

"Ciri"

"Ciri? Well…now I understand the secrecy. Not to mention the brooding, the furled brow. And you say she had some sort of problem with a witch?"

"So, you haven't seen her" Geralt stated the obvious.

"I'm certain I haven't. But recently someone asked me about an ashen-haired young woman. He claimed she would stand out from the peasant crowd"

"Who was it?"

"Not so fast, Geralt. No humble plea? No offering for the witch?"

"What's your rate these days? A couple dozen eggs? Three hens, maybe?"

"My rate rises with every word you speak. I'm not sure you can afford the information anymore."

"Hm, you're pricklier than I remember. Isn't living in nature's lap supposed to be cleansing, calming…?"

"Nature stinks" Keira answered. She paused again for a moment before adding "Oh, sod it, don't give me that look. I know it's Ciri we're talking about. It was an elf – this individual asking about Cirilla. No flea-bitten Scoia'tael slob, either, but an elven mage."

"He say what his name was?"

"He didn't. And he wore a mask. Very secretive all around, but…I liked him. He was intelligent and composed."

"He say what he wanted with Ciri?"

"Only that they were to meet in Velen. He wished to know if she'd arrived before he did"

"What was an elven mage doing in Velen?"

"Well, I tried to ask him, of course, about everything…"

"Of course."

"But you know how elves are – he asked many more questions than he answered."

"He leave any message for her?"

"No, but he asked where to meet her, to lead her to him"

"So you know where to find him?"

"Yes, he said he'd found a hideout in some elven ruins near the village of Midcopse"

After learning about this hideout, Keira walked back down the stony steps with Geralt and opened up a portal. "I'll go there with you" she said.

"Why? Think I'll have trouble finding this place?"

"I've unfinished business with this elf. He promised me something, but he never delivered it. Besides, I know you think as I do – that she might be there. And I'd like to see Cirilla, too"

"Let's go, then"

"Yes, let's"

On that basis, Keira immediately teleported Geralt and herself to the entrance of the aforementioned elven ruins. "This is the place" she commented. "Been here before?" Geralt asked her.

"No. I was hoping the elf would return as he'd promised, or else his waif would appear. At any rate, I've no idea what to expect from this place"

"Well, let's find out"

"Come on!" said the sorceress. They entered the elven ruins, which were dark…too dark to see clearly, so she casted a spell by magically projecting her voice and saying some elvish words to light up the way down the stairs. "Gvella, glan!" she said.

The spell lightened up the area a bit and they headed down the stairs. A short ways inside, Geralt spied familiar soldiers in the distance investigating a room. "The Wild Hunt"

"The what?! Phantom riders?! That means…I thought they didn't exist!"

"Feast your eyes on the non-existent, then"

The riders of the Hunt then disappeared into a portal. "Hm. Got a navigator with them" Geralt spotted a huge figure wearing similar armour to that of the Wild Hunt. Yet unlike the others, he carried neither a sword nor an axe, but a big magic staff. Clearly, he was the Hunt's expert on matters of magic.

"A what?"

"Can you teleport us to the other side?"

"I'd rather teleport us home. Do you really mean to follow them?"

"Teleport. Hurry up!"

"Not sure I like any of this. Follow me"

Keira opened up a portal. "Ready?" she asked Geralt. He allowed her to go first – "Ahhhh!" she screamed from the fall – and the witcher stepped in after her, but then he appeared in a cave elsewhere, alone. It was then Geralt remembered getting separated from your friends was just one of the many reasons why he so strongly disliked being teleported. "Damn portals. Wonder where Keira is now"

He ran down a tunnel – fortunately, not much stood in his way besides a few drowners and some poisonous gases which was nothing he couldn't handle – to find her in a room, where she had found a literal rat's nest. "Geralt! Do something!" she shrieked like a damsel in distress while using magic to shield herself from the swarms of vermin. "They're crawling out of those holes. Use a Sign! Or Bombs! Anything!"

"Stay calm! They're only rats!" Geralt assured her. "I hate…ugh! I hate rats!" she protested. He slashed his way through about half a dozen or more rats and then used Igni to set their nests on fire while Keira continued to shriek and scream during the fight, crying out things like "Geralt!", "Disgusting", "Get them off! Ahh!", "Uggh, it's disgusting!" and "do you know how many diseases they spread?!"

Once the rats were taken care of, Keira finally calmed down and released her protective spell. Geralt approached her and asked "you that afraid of rats? Could have annihilated them with one spell"

She glared at him and Geralt said "fine…won't say anything. So, what happened to you?"

"There's something here, something that distorts teleportation. I've no idea how the Wild Hunt got to the other side problem-free."

"Wild Hunt's teleportation magic is different. Got specially trained mages for that. Navigators, they call them"

"They can have three helmsmen and a parrot for all I care. I'll not risk that again"

"Let's go. Wild Hunt got a good head start on us, but we still stand a chance"

"Have you gone completely mad?! We must leave at once!"

"I gotta know what the Wild Hunt is doing here"

"But we came to find the elven mage, not fight the Hunt!"

"If they reach him first, we might not get a chance to talk to him. Besides…"

"Go on, finish!" Keira curtly interrupted. "Wait…you've some special interest in the Wild Hunt, haven't you? Is this about Ciri? There's something you've not told me, isn't there?"

"Come with me and maybe I will"

"Are you always like this? I'm beginning to feel sorry for Triss and Yen. Oh, very well. Let's go. Gvella, glan!"

They continued their expedition through the ruins until they came upon a magical projection of the mysterious elven mage, who said in his native elven language "Daughter of the Gull. Greetings. I await you, Daughter of the Gull"

"That's him! That's the elf!"

"Follow the sign of your sword!" the elf said again in the Elder Speech. The hologram then deactivated and Geralt asked "What was that? An illusion?"

"No…a morphotic projection"

"A what projection?"

"Something akin to a postbox for mages. Much safer than an ordinary letter, which anyone can intercept en route to its' recipient."

"Message was definitely for Ciri. Daughter of the Gull – Lara Dorren's heir"

"Indeed. It is what the elves titled Ciri. But what was the bit about the sign of her sword? A riddle?"

"Yeah, not a hard one, though. Not if you know she named her sword "Zireael" – 'Swallow'"

"Come now, who apart from you would know that?"

"Might've been the point. Your elven mage secured the passage, hid it, so that only Ciri could find it"

"He failed to foresee that someone like you would show up"

"Nevertheless, I think he was expecting some uninvited guests, made some preparations. Let's hope the Wild Hunt ran into some obstacles."

"Well then, let's go. Do you think following the swallows will suffice?"

"We'll see"

They continued on through a large, watery cavern. "An old elven…port?" Keira asked.

"Must have been how they got here by sea"

"I wonder how long ago that was"

Geralt spotted some yellow gas ahead and immediately warned Keira by saying "Careful! That oily yellow vapour – it's toxic"

"I hardly need instruction from you. I recognised the vulpine morel immediately."

"Vesemir told me that soon after he'd learned how to cast Igni, he tried it out on a patch of these mushrooms"

"Terrible idea. What happened?"

"Well, he survived. And wounds heal awfully quick on young witchers. Come on"

Geralt used Igni to clear the way – while maintaining a safe distance, of course, unlike Vesemir when he was younger – and continued on with Keira in tow. Nearby, they spot some familiar iconography marking a passage entrance. "A swallow. Seems we're headed the right way."

The swallow-marked passages led them into a large chamber where they saw another projection of the mysterious elf. "Look. It's rather similar to that other pillar with the projection." Keira commented.

Again, in his elven tongue, the Sage said "Swallow, the most obvious route is not always the best. Find Kelpie"

"Kelpie. Does he mean that sea monster?" the sorceress asked her mutated, monster-killing friend. "No. That's what Ciri named her mare. Horse could apparently gallop like a demon"

"Hm, good name for a horse. So, shall we look for it?" Keira asked. "Gvella, glan!"

Nearby, Geralt found a marking of a creature on the wall. "A sea monster. Looks a bit like a Kayran"

"Geralt, what the hell is that?!"

He turned around to see Keira pointing at two ghost-like versions of themselves. "Another security measure. Dammit all…"

While they were fighting their clones with sword and spell alike, Keira asked Geralt "Do you think it's a mind game or something? You know, can you defeat yourself? Are you willing to? Perhaps these apparitions believe they are real"

"Sorry, just don't share your doubts. Know exactly which one of you is real. Now focus on the fight"

Geralt's steel sword clashed and slashed with his clone's while Keira and hers casted spells at one another. It wasn't easy, of course. Not only did the clones look the same, their fighting prowess was essentially identical to their material counterparts. Both sides were more or less evenly matched. However, the _real_ Geralt and Keira managed to defeat them in the end.

"Anything like that ever happen to you before?"

"Weeeell, almost. While back, a certain doppler took a shot at impersonating me" Geralt answered as he sheathed his sword.

"Yes? And?"

"He hated being me. Felt uncomfortable. Dopplers are kind-hearted by nature"

In the centre of the room was a huge well. Geralt looked down into it and saw that the water was deep enough to prevent him from breaking his legs, and jumped into it. He found another drawing scrawled at the bottom shortly afterwards…of a horse, this time. "Drawing of a horse. Clue for Ciri, must be"

Geralt took a deep breath and submerged himself underwater. Beneath the surface, he found an underwater passage marked by the horse drawing. He swam through it and emerged from the other side. Geralt then found another image of a horse. "Kelpie. Another horse. Almost exactly like the last one. Let's see what it does"

He touched it with his hand and caused the room to shake. Then he heard Keira call out to him "Geralt! I don't know what you did, but it worked! Come back here! Look, they're opening!"

The witcher ran back to the previous chamber and found a hidden passage had revealed itself. "Let's go" said Keira. Further in, they saw a massive swallow design above an inactive portal. "Well, now I know what distorted my effort at teleportation. This very portal"

"And I know why I landed in that drowner nest"

"You should be pleased you emerged from the portal in one piece"

"And everyone still wonders why I hate to be teleported"

"We must try to activate it"

"Think that's a…swallow"

Geralt touched a smaller swallow glyph, which reactivated the portal. "It worked. Come"

"Sure it's safe?"

"Of course. The elven mage prepared this passage for Ciri. Come on, now"

They both entered the portal - Keira did so first, of course…as Geralt had already mentioned he didn't like portals. However, he understood that he had no choice but to go through it if he wanted to find Ciri. The witcher simply hoped he would emerge from it in one piece…and wouldn't get separated from Keira again.

Luckily, they came out of the teleport unscathed, _and_ together this time; though they found themselves in a rather unfamiliar place. "It's grown awfully quiet" Keira commented.

"Is that bad?"

"A bit like the calm before the storm"

They heard an odd noise from the chamber next door, and entered it to find a massive golem sentry waiting for them. "Zireael not recognised. Intruders. Destroy the intruders"

Witchers' bestiaries say Golems are mindless matter brought to life by a spell. Magical constructs that obey their creator's orders without question. Their boundless strength, ability to withstand pain, endless patience and the fact that they have no need for even one bit of food or drink makes them the greatest servants and guards anyone could ever wish for. And when provoked, they will not stop until they've either crushed their enemies…or they themselves have crumbled into dust; which isn't too hard to do for a seasoned witcher and a powerful sorceress.

With a bit of sword and sorcery, they were able to do just that. "And that would be that! I knew we'd manage"

"That so? Make sure and tell me beforehand next time"

"My intuition's a fine instrument, witcher. Don't underestimate it. I've some _veeeery_ good feelings about you, for instance. In several domains"

As they ventured onwards, Keira asked Geralt "Once you've finally found Ciri, what will you do? Any plans?"

"Depends what she wants"

"Imagined it – how it will…transpire? What will she say? What will she look like?"

"No."

"I'm sorry. For getting ahead of myself. At times, I forget…we hardly know each other, certainly not enough to discuss personal matters"

"Not to worry. We'll get there"

They enter another room with a teleport and Geralt pointed it out by saying "Teleport over there"

"We must activate it quickly. I've a feeling another golem is about to surprise us."

"Another swallow"

Geralt activated it and Keira said "Look, it worked. Come on"

They enter the teleport and end up back in the main room, but on the other side this time. "Look. We managed to cross the bridge. This is where we saw the Wild Hunt"

"Great. Means they're way ahead of us. Come on"

They run up a flight of stairs and see golems nearby. Fortunately for them, they didn't attack because they had been frozen solid. "Wild Hunt – definitely." Said Geralt without a doubt in his mind.

"They destroyed the mages' sentries? They didn't come here for a friendly chat with the elf"

"Meaning you ever thought they might've?"

They find another golem past the others. "Frozen 'em before they could attack" Geralt observed.

A bit further onward, the pair found a large chamber currently occupied by the Wild Hunt. "Shaar'az!" the navigator said in his native tongue as he casted a spell. "They're here already" one of the soldiers said in the same language.

"I'll tend to them. We've no time to lose. Go"

The mage prepared to cast a large spell. "Shaent tah'vir!" he bellowed, and the room suddenly became deathly cold as an unnatural frost gripped the cavern walls and snow began to fall heavily. "What is this?!" Keira asked.

"The White Frost! Mage from the Hunt summoned it! Can you seal those cracks it's blowing through?"

"They're too far! We must get closer! I shall shield us with Demetia's Crest Surge! Stand at my side!"

Without question or hesitation, Geralt did as he was told and Keira used her knowledge of the Elder Speech to cast a force field spell. "Da'arian annoi!"

A barrier was then erected around her and the witcher that protected them from the chill. "Ready? Stay close! Bhain'ne calar! We must close them!"

"Want me to go…?"

"I'll do it, just cover me!"

Keira then began using her sorcery to close the first portal. Hounds of the Wild Hunt – horrible four legged creatures created by their evil masters out of ice that mindlessly attack anything in their sight like a pack of feral dogs - poured out of it and tried to stop her, but Geralt fended them off with both his silver sword and Signs. One by one, he slew them until Keira chanted "An Gal Scam'Hanach!"

The sorceress took a while, but eventually closed the first portal. She and Geralt then moved on to the next. "Whew, I'm beginning to think we might make it." She said. "Bhain'ne calar!"

Geralt once again defended her from the Hunt's Hounds while she worked on closing the second portal. "An Gal Scam'Hanach!"

Now there was only one left. "Just one more." Said the White Wolf. "Mhm. Bhain'ne calar!"

"An Gal Scam'Hanach!" she siphoned the last of the magic from the portal, ending the freezing spell. "It worked…Da'arian annoi!"

She became noticeably drained and soon collapsed into Geralt's arms. "Keira, what's wrong?" he asked. "It'll pass…that took…a great deal of power"

"Just don't faint on me"

"Now, in your firm embrace? Not on your life!"

"Love to say we could stay a while and rest"

"I know, I know. We must go on"

They moved on to where the mage was, but the exit was blocked by ice. "Hm. They blocked the passage. Maybe I can try-"

"Leave it to me"

She disintegrated the icy barrier with lightning spells. "Gvella, glan! Come. We might still catch them"

"Thanks for your help. Pretty tough slog"

"Good thing I came with you. You'd never have managed without me, would you? Come now, admit it!"

"Yeah. Never"

They come to another chamber containing another Hunt member. He was a huge, heavily-armoured warrior carrying a large two-handed battleaxe…and his name was Nithral.

"He awaits us" said Keira. "You're stubborn, dh'oine!" the big warrior growled.

"Geralt, I shall help you…" Keira spoke up, but was interrupted by Geralt who said as he drew his silver sword "Step back"

"Stop telling me what to do!"

Since this was the first time Geralt had to fight a member of the Wild Hunt, he knew he wouldn't survive – even with the aid of a powerful sorceress - unless he come up with a sound strategy. Nithral was incredibly tall, looked strong and his armour was thick…but it must have a weakness. The witcher simply needed to find it.

He casted Quen to protect himself from the soldier's heavy blows and used his superior speed to steer clear of his axe while hacking and slashing at Nithral's armour until he found a weak spot. Keira, on the other hand, casted lightning spells at the big guy. Though as powerful as her magic was, Nithral's armour was strong enough to protect him from her spells for the most part.

However, at times, she was able to stun him and that gave Geralt an opportunity to cut through the metal that protected him. But while they whittled him down with swords and spells, Nithral growled "Salah vatt'ghern!" and surrounded him in a protective magical shield made of ice while portals opened and Hounds of the Wild Hunt emerged from them. "Geralt! Another rift!" Keira shrieked.

Now the duo were forced to fight the Hounds instead of Nithral until the portal closed again and there were no more Hounds left. Nithral, who used his magic to protect himself while he healed his wounds, continued the fight until he needed to heal them once again.

Needless to say, this battle was not easy. Nithral was as tough as he looked…perhaps tougher. And while the lightness of Geralt's armour made it easier for him to dodge the big guy's attacks, he couldn't dodge every swing. Nithral was also surprisingly quick for an elf his size and actually managed to hit him a few times. Luckily, Geralt used his witcher magic to shield himself. And when that failed, he had brewed a few potions earlier which he used to heal his wounds and keep fighting.

The battle took a long time, but in the end, Geralt and Keira finally managed to slay the Hunt member. "Are you well and whole?" the witch asked. "I feared…"

"Unnecessarily. Let's look around"

"If I've my knickers on straight, this looks like the elf's laboratory"

Another morphotic projector appeared nearby. "Look, the elf left another message for Ciri"

"Daughter of the Gull" the mysterious elf said in his mother tongue. "All right, let's watch this message"

"Zireael, this place is no longer safe. Do not tarry here long. Trust no one, and above all; beware the witches of Crookback Bog. Try to reach the place where last we were together"

The projection ended and Geralt repeated "where last we were together." Not much to go on. Dammit!"

"Perhaps it's best he didn't leave a clearer message. The Wild Hunt broke in here; surely, they saw the projection."

"They searched everything…and if they had more time, they would have torn this place to the ground. But that doesn't change the fact that we haven't learned anything. Not about the elf, not about Ciri"

"Well, we know they were well acquainted and travelling together"

Geralt paused for a moment to think, then recalled the elf mentioned something about witches. "The witches of Crookback Swamp…"

"Crookback Bog"

"Keira! If you're hiding something…"

"But – I didn't say…"

"You know these witches?"

"I've never met them, but I've read of them – in an old manuscript in one of the huts of the village. It mentions the village witches venturing into Crookback Bog at times – to liaison between the villagers and the Crones; the Ladies of the Wood. The Crones appear to be intolerant of outsiders, but they help the local folk. Apparently, they stopped the spread of the plague in Velen"

"Hm. What's your take on all this?"

"I'd love to shrug it off as the nattering of old women, but…throughout my first fortnight in Velen, I had horrible nightmares. Something was calling me out into the swamps. One night, I decided to enter the dream consciously, render it lucid. I confronted the…thing directly. It broke contact at once. Peaceful nights ever since"

"Why didn't you say anything earlier. I told you Ciri had a run in with a witch"

"I had no idea you meant them…If I'd told you something, you would have rushed off to find them…but we first needed to confirm that Ciri was here, right? I shall tell you everything now, of course"

"Now, after I safely led you through the cave?"

"I can't believe you'd think so poorly of me. Perhaps you do bear a grudge against sorceresses"

"Mhm. Can't imagine where that comes from…how do I find them?"

"The swamps are vast, dangerous. But they say the Crones mark the way for peasants who wish to visit them. The manuscript mentions a chapel in Crookback Bog. And from that chapel, one must follow the Trail of Treats."

"Treats"

"Of course, they didn't read you bedtime stories at Kaer Morhen. All normal folk know witches live in gingerbread houses poised atop chicken legs"

"I'll have to see that to believe it"

"Take the tome and read it. I…truly do believe you'll find your Cirilla. All right, then. As a start, let's look for a way out of here."

"Good idea"

"Why'd we even come?"

They inspected the laboratory, but didn't find anything even mildly interesting there besides some herbs – which is rare for a mage to be in possession of – some burnt notes and a potion given to the elf by Keira…which was currently empty.

However, Geralt's medallion started to vibrate when near a wall. "hmm…strange. My medallion's trembling, but there's nothing here…what's with this wall?"

"It's an illusion. I sensed it as well. I suspected we might run into such things, so I brought this"

Keira held out an odd disc. "Meaning what?" Geralt asked. "The Eye of Nehaleni. It dispels illusions. It's bound to come in handy. And each time it does, you'll think of me"

"Hm, thanks"

Geralt took the Eye and used it to dispel the fake wall, revealing a new passage. "Simple, isn't it?" Keira asked him, though she did not require an answer. "Mhm" said Geralt.

"Do you feel that? A flow of fresh air, from the left." Keira commented. Must be an exit that way!"

"Good, let's get outta here"

"Wait, there's still the magic lamp"

"Magic what now?"

"Lamp. The elf promised it to me in exchange for my help. And since his return here seems doubtful, I must retrieve it myself. If I can find it; that is…will you help?"

Geralt thought about it for a moment, then said "Yeah, I'll help"

"Splendid, come then"


End file.
